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Unexpected
It's been a week since Sam realized she was pregnant, and now she has to tell the father; it would be ten times easier if she actually knew who the father is. Manuel makes a move on a rejecting student, yet finds comfort in an unexpected person. Our High School is Better Than Yours! Season 1, Episode 5: "Unexpected" The world around her consisted of blurred streaks of color and a collection of strange noises as Sam stumbled across the hall, colliding with various passing students, unable to cope with the thought of a human clinging to the insides of her womb. She clutched her abdomen tightly, afraid that the slightest jerk would provoke a seriously premature birth; her condition had made her obviously made her paranoid. She needed to find the father of the child, the boy she'd drunkenly slept with the night of the party. She knew he attended this school - she slightly recognized him from the incidents like passing him on the corridor, learning in the same class as him, yet paying no attention. He was a sophomore like her, and his hair shone chocolate brown, and was snipped into a Justin Bieber-like style. It would be a lot easier if she knew his first name, or at least knew what classes he took. The hallway gradually cleared as the shrill call of the bell alerted the pupils, and Sam let out a sigh of disappointment. There was no way she was going to find him now - maybe she'd search again at lunch. Cradling folders stuffed with crumpled papers in her slender arm, she teetered on heels running through the labyrinth of lifeless school corridors, searching for her room, yet, like her first day, she couldn't locate her class. This time, Delilah wasn't there to insult her and slap her and tell her that Power Squad auditions were after lunch. Delilah's been such a good friend, ''thought Sam as she turned another sharp bend. ''Yeah, it was at her party where I got pregnant, but she's been so supportive. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't know that I'm pregnant. Oh, goodness, why did I have to become 'with child' on my first time?! Talk about unlucky. I need to find the father. I need too. If I don't, I need to get an abortion. But they cost a fortune - I'll never be able to afford it unless I get money from my parents, and in order to get money I need to tell them, then they'll know, then I'll get disowned, and then I'll be on the streets and I'll have to give birth in an alleyway and then -'' "Woah!" someone shouted as she suddenly plowed into someone leaning against the lockers. Two warm hands gripped onto her bare shoulders and gently eased her back, and she recognized the gentle yet somehow firm grip. Her folders escaped from her arm and swept across the ground, carpeting the floor with papers. "Oh, sorry, my mind was elsewhere," she muttered and swooped down, scooping up the sheets in her palms. The stranger mirrored her, also collecting the cards. "I can see," he replied, his voice making it evident he was male. Her vision still a little blurred, she stood and turned to the boy who held her other assignments. His eyes are what struck her first - a dazzling hazel, glowing under the rays of sun pulsing through the windows. Next was his flesh, a dusky shade of white, almost-scarily pale. Next was his hair, chocolate brown, fashioned in a Bieber-style hair cut which unexpectedly suited him. The eyes, the flesh, the hair, his familiar voice, his familiar grip. Oh god. "Thanks," whispered Sam as he handed over the pile of sheets, her stomach performing one of her cheerleading routines, and the saliva in her mouth suddenly tasted like sick. She fought madly to keep a straight face. "Erm, so, what's your name?" "Tom. Tom Anderson," he replied, a beautiful smile adorning his face. ''Tom Anderson... doesn't sound familiar. ''"And yours?" "Hm? Oh, I'm Samantha Valentine, cheerleader," she plastered a smile on her face, attempting to look polite. "Did you go to Delilah Rene's party a couple weeks ago?" "Yes, I did," he said, and Sam's heart leapt. "I got so drunk, though, I can only remember arriving. Well, actually, I managed to get some memories back. I arrived, got drunk, then stopped someone tripping on the stairs. It's blank after that." ''Oh, holy sh!t. It's him. This is the guy I slept with. All I need now is to tell him. How the fu!k am I meant to do that? Manuel sat uncomfortably in the class chair, impatiently awaiting the results of his test. He fidgeted madly, feeling as if he was sitting upon drawing pins, hoping to see anything higher than a D. Even a C in English would be an accomplishment. Miss Herring sat at her cluttered desks, busily marking tests, her eyes constantly flicking up at Manny as he squirmed, his teeth chatting as he nibbled on her sore fingernails. Ugh, come on! Marking tests doesn't take that long. I've been working on my dyslexia ever since I found out, and I think I've gotten better, but I still can't read words longer than eight letters or read small print or read words backwards. "Alright, class, here are your test results!" Manuel jumped as Miss Herring stood from her tests, tightly clutching an enormous wad of paper, wandering around in her knee-high boots. "Amy, well done, an A+ - you're a talented writer. Joey, a B+ - not bad, not bad indeed. Jacqueline, a B - a little bit of work and you'll get there. Manuel..." she neared him, and he sat up in his seat, quaking madly. She gave him his paper. The right hand corner read the letter F in bold red ink. "...See me when the bell goes." Manuel's heart sunk deep in the ocean of his body. A fail. His parents would flip. His grades were constantly falling in any subject which involved writing or reading, which was pretty much all of them, and if any of his friends found out he was dyslexic, he'd get beaten up. And it would hurt. The bell whistled loudly, and the entire class rose in immaculate synchronicity. Manuel joined the class, gathered up his books, and made his way over to the teacher's desk. "Right, Manuel," she began when the class had cleared. "It's been over a month of lessons and you are still fading. You should at least be able to receive a B- in this subject. Have you been skipping lessons?" "No!" he replied truthfully, head nestled in his hands. "I don't get it! It's too hard! Maybe I'm not dyslexic - maybe I'm just plain illiterate." "Manuel, if you were illiterate, I'd have you sent to a private school for extra lessons," she hissed. "What's wrong with me? Am I just stupid?" "No, you aren't. You just need a little help with literacy." "Why?" "I don't know. Listen, if you want to improve your grades, I want to you to come to evening school here at 6pm every weeknight. I'll be in this classroom." "And I'll be with you?" enquired Manuel, his heart slowly rising. "Yes," she replied. At that moment, Manuel was suddenly overwhelmed with his teacher's beauty. So overwhelmed in fact, that he leant over and pressed his lips upon hers. Tom sat in front of the mirror in the male bathroom, flicking through tracks on his iPod, bored out of his mind. He was skipping Geometry, and he couldn't find Ellie anywhere, and everyone else was occupied in lessons. But, no matter how he tried, he couldn't eliminate the image of the pretty blond girl he'd met that morning. He'd seen that face before. But he couldn't remember where. Suddenly, the heavy door swung open, and his sight diverted. He expected to see one of the jocks storming in, dragging a weak freshmen by his head, ready to dunk it down the toilet. But instead, his eyes were treated to the beautiful girl he was only just thinking about. "Hey, Sam, what are you doing here?" he asked, and looked around, despite knowing that nobody else was in the cubicle. "This is the men's room." "I know," she croaked out, her eyes crimson and puffy. She'd obviously been crying her eyes out. "I was... looking for you." "Me?" he asked, and she nodded feebly. "Why?" "You said that at Delilah's party, you remember stopping someone fall on the stairs?" she groaned, evidently blinking back salty tears. "That was me." "Yes... so?" "Erm, you don't remember what happened after that, do you?" Tears streak down her cheeks, and Tom shuffled close to her, concerned, whilst gently shaking his head. "Oh my god. Erm... well... after you stopped me falling, I... I kissed you." "You did?" he exclaimed, eyes widening in a mixture of disbelief and shock. "Yes. But that's not the worse thing. We... w-we were right next to the bedroom, and we were just making out like crazy. It escalated so quickly... we went into the bedroom, and we just..." The tears ran like waterfalls, and a strangled cry escaped Tom's swollen throat. "You're lying," he hissed, voice almost inaudible. "I'm not, I swear! But now... last week, I was really ill, so I t-took a p-pregnancy test. It's positive. I'm pregnant," she moaned, then burst into tears, her head nestling on his shoulder. Tom stared blankly into the distant, his mind slowly processing all the new information. He'd slept with a girl whilst drunk and now she was pregnant. "It's definitely mine?" he whispered when he throat had finally moistened. "Yeah, it's yours," she replied between tears. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, sh!t, we're dead. I'm dead. I've got an unborn child I can't afford, my parents are gonna kill me -" "Shut up, I'm the one carrying the bloody thing here," she hissed, and dragged her sleeve across her eyes, smudging the tears. "I'll talk to you after school. We need to sort this out." Ellie sauntered across the hallway, hair still damp after the shower which followed cheerleading practice, searching for someone to talk to. Tom had failed to make an appearance in Geometry, leaving her alone and forced to take a test which she was positive she was going to fail. "Tom?" she called as she turned another corner, pondering where he might be. He won't be in the football stands... he might be at his locker, since he wasn't in class... he might be in the gents, but there's no way I'm going in there. THE END Category:Episodes Category:Season One Episodes